The World's a Taxi

  In the middle of the night, just outside the hospital, this survivor sees a taxi. He hails it, knowing that it will be his only chance of getting home and back to a normal state the next day--at least normal enough to resume work and put on an air of everything being ok. After all, things are ok, aren't they? He feels grateful that in the end, the taxi ride was only $20. Only $20...

 Taxis and hotels, for me, symbolize the transitional nature of reality and the world. Anytime you see a movie that involves either of these elements, you are bound to find intrigue and even a touch of sleaziness, since they are transitional realms between the civilized world and the underlying chaos. But at the same time, anytime there is a disaster or an unexpected circumstance (like a breakdown of the transit system, a winter storm, or a late night falling out), there is bound to be a taxi somewhere in the corner, waiting patiently for you to give them your money. Here, taxis become reminiscent of the Hermetic messenger or the boatman who is thought to take people to the realm of Hades. It is the messenger between two or more different worlds.

  Life is unexpectedly merciful in all the weirdest ways. It's the unexpected mercies that remind us of grace, and how, no matter how much a person tries to control their circumstances, nothing is fully in a person's control. In my vignette above, I see the grace in the facticity of hospitals: always being 24 hours open for people. But also, "normalcy" is just around the corner from the most dire circumstances. Order lives beside chaos and vice versa--they are intimate strangers, in fact. And of course there is the mercy of knowing that what seems a costly trip was not at all costly from the traveler's perspective. It's important to pay attention to these small moments of mercy whenever we can.

   Buddhism talks about the ferry that takes people to the other shore, which means Dharma teachings have a way of transforming a person's mindset away from samsara and into nirvana. When stagnation becomes transition, we are aware that our situation is always changing, and we are connected always with other beings who can help.  Dharma is like a cool water that splashes over a hot and unbearable situation, because it cuts through the illusion of isolation. It reminds us that we are not trapped individuals, not trapped in any situation except for the illusion of solidity and permanence. 

Sometimes we need to take a ride in the mysterious taxi late at night, to remind ourselves of the long dream we are sharing in this life.